


I'm a dead man walking here, but that's the least of all my fears

by supercalifragili



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, Past Character Death, Sniper!Liam, and a bunch of other things, attempted suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 14:49:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4064026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supercalifragili/pseuds/supercalifragili
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Then, Liam thinks he’s never been this happy, happy to love somebody as quietly and boldly as he can and happy to have come to life again. People say that having a long life is good, but returning to life to fall in love over and over again is one of those things Liam wouldn’t give for granted; the feeling that roars in your chest and the way your heart thumps and your whole body feels stays on another level, it stays on the brink of the unimaginable, it’s so powerful and immense, and Liam can’t define the immense because the word in itself seems too immense to give a defined space to.</p><p> </p><p>For now Liam is just a common shooter who happens to be falling in love with his neighbour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm a dead man walking here, but that's the least of all my fears

**Author's Note:**

> I was really sad and fucked up when I started this, the latter cause i had just finished watching Interstellar, i stg Christopher Nolan can fuck off i'm mad lmao... Lirry is my happy go lucky ship, idk why did this happen.  
> The title of the fic comes from Barton Hollow by The Civil Wars  
> I was unsure about the title 'cause The Civil Wars sang along every line I wrote so I went with Barton Hollow even though I had Oh, Henry and Falling (and Disarm tbh) in mind too, hopefully it'll go along with the fic.

It all feels different in Liam's hands, he ponders for a moment in the shape of form he’s holding and leaves it falling below him. He doesn’t see anything below his knees, there’s nothing, maybe a black void, maybe something else, he can’t give it a name and it probably is too hard to explain. There’s something that he can’t describe, he can’t give thought to at the moment. Time flies below him at a speed he can’t comprehend, but he sees bits of lives, he sees smiles and tears of desperation, he experiences things no other entity can see and feel- it hurts sometimes.

The pain closes over his heart and constricts his chest, his breath short when he tries to regain consciousness; it’s not that easy to come back, he works in the present, he can’t go that far anyway. He can do something, but the dark overwhelms his thoughts sometimes- the dark…

“James, hey, Jam-”

“I’m here”

He remembers, it feels strange now, it feels like this is something he’s already done, the voice is way too familiar for him to forget… Fuck, it feels good, it feels so good

“You didn’t come yet”

“No”

“I came three times already, your stamina is amazing”

It doesn’t feel like a compliment, Liam looks down, eyes focusing on the shape of the woman below him, he brushes his fingers on the soft skin of her hips making out the form of his thumbs on either side of her…

“Wanna stop?” he asks, his voice is a little throaty and distant, even in his own ears.

The thing is, he’s still fucking into her, and she’s still moaning and as much as he feels good physically it doesn’t feel like anything mentally, the circuits in his brain can’t catch up yet, they never did.

“No,” she says, her hair is silky when he holds it in his fist and pulls her back to him, her back arching beautifully in front of him, he can’t give any other thought now… not to the else…

He grins against the skin of her neck, her perfume is so sweet, like peaches, like mangoes, something synthetic and fabricated… something so far away.

“Come on, babe”

 

When Liam wakes up, there’s nobody, but crumpled sheets by the side of him; emptiness welcomes him in a new day and something feels normal… almost. He rubs his cheeks, a dried lipstick staining his fingertips when he raises his hand up above him, there’s a sort of red he can’t decipher... It feels like passion and intimacy, like all the sweet things, but a bit of bitterness in the way it colours the pad of his fingers, something like non-commitment.

The clock reads twelve past eight, he wonders if he could have seen her leave, feel the heat of her skin on his hands one more time before letting her go or at least give her some breakfast. A chuckle leaves his lips, it sounds wrong, almost evil. He would have loved to prepare her some toast and tea, but he guesses that will go for another night with some other woman.

He prepares himself a quick coffee and goes to take a shower, throwing in the washing machine his bed sheets. The rumble of the machine remains loud in his ears while he showers and strokes his cock under the cold jets of water. He almost wishes Moni- Ashley stayed. Just for a while more. He strokes his beard carefully and ruffles his hair in front of the mirror while he brushes his teeth, he looks pale, and maybe he needs to sleep.

He hates coffee, the taste is stale on his tongue and he misses the coffee he had a while back when he was a farmer of some kind in Colombia, he worked rather well for someone who didn’t know what the fuck to do with crops. But there, in the tranquility that his little farm away from the city gave him, Liam was alright, he didn’t grip on any absurdity and didn’t dwell in any worry. The sun was up in the sky every morning and Liam could just sit there and breathe in the dry and free like no other person in the world would have been able to. He was away from the smog and people and the calculating attitude of men and he felt like he was away from himself too.

Liam unhooks his semi from under the drawer of his table; the bar he usually sets it on is stable enough and he really hopes Ashley didn’t peep around before leaving. It’s a really slick gun Liam admits to himself as he holds it in his hand for a while before fitting into its shoulder holster, he latches up the belt of his jeans and wears the jacket he left on his shelf. He sets himself on the balcony of his apartment with a huff and stays there until the sun shines timidly before getting hidden by clouds, heavy and white.

He hates coffee; Liam grumbles a little before he hears a noise, little and fleeting. He lights up a cigarette, what a great combination, he wonders eyeing his coffee and leaving his Zippo by his side, it feels cold in his hands, way cooler that the shower he had-

A click lets him reach under the shirt he’s wearing, it makes him brush the holder before a voice catches to his ears “You really do love mornings” a man smiles, he’s only in boxers, tight on his thighs when he waves a hand.

“And getting on with random girls too,” he continues stretching, his tattoos are scattered with no sense of organization whatsoever; if Liam could move them neatly, he gladly would. The moth on his chest is Liam’s favourite, he wishes he could find out what’s the one on his thigh. Liam wonders how many of the men he saw going up to stay in his apartment for a night looked at it and observed it, but he keeps the thought away.

“Would you want me to try men?”

“Could be much more fun,” he smirks, Liam can’t see him that well, even though their apartments are exactly right in front of each other.

Liam actually knows men could be fun, but he shakes his head with a teasing grin and puffs out; the cigarette feels like nothing and his coffee is shit. Liam wonders if Harry could make him one that’s better or maybe he just needs to go to the bar at two minutes away from his place and order one with a tinge of vodka.

“I don’t know about that…”

“Harry, you always forget” Harry frowns a little, his skin is pale and his hair is long, reaching his shoulders and curling nicely there

This is the fifth time Harry says his name is Harry, this is the fifth time Liam hears him saying it, but it's the second time his heart beats in a way he can't describe “… Not that good with names” Liam leaves his cigarette between his lips and leans his head on the wall watching above him

“I know your name is James, the girl can scream”

“Left the window open for a reason, don’t you think?”

“What an exhibitionist” Harry shakes his head, Liam can make up the bruises on Harry’s hips, his fingers itch, he doesn’t know if he’d like to make them more prominent

“Talking with one at the moment” Liam waves before Harry laughs halfheartedly and gets back into his own apartment, he leaves his window open and Liam can see him dressed up, he can see his back, the faint sightings of his muscles there.

Harry, twenty-three, captivating, smart… very lonely.

Liam’s phone rings in his pocket, the tune making Harry return to his balcony, set for university.

“Good day,” he says and Liam nods before Harry goes back inside, locks the window and buttons his shirt

“Yes” Liam says boringly when he picks up the call

“For how long are you going to look at this one?”

“Louis, he’s younger than me by one year and it's just curiousity, I don't know if he's in a circle of-” Liam huffs holding the cup of his coffee and leaving it in the sink, a number is drawn on a piece of paper, he eyes it before trashing it.

“He’s rich” Liam returns to his cigarette and enjoys the breeze of the morning wind.

“With that Saint Lauren’s shirt, I can bet” the voice on the phone laughs, “I already killed two men, found a pouch of purple crystals on their fingertips and killed another man dead… Think the job is done”

“Been cleaning all that”

“Thanks man” the line cuts off

 _Exhibitionist_ , Liam smiles wearing his suit.

He’d like to fuck Harry quiet one day.

 

There’s something about watching Harry change, work under the dark lights and take a breather outside in just the matter of seconds… it’s not peeping, he could do that, but Harry looks like he wants to be seen, his body invites- attracts- in all the right and wrong ways. There’s something about letting time pass and looking at Harry while he eats by his own balcony, the smudges clear on the skin under his eyes, his hips stained in imprints of fingertips. There’s something about Harry that feels like a lie, there’s a lot about lies Liam knows something of, but he tries to overlook those too.

Liam lives, but he can’t change things… He can’t change events.

“Liam, get back”

“Louis, you will need to fuck off”

“Patch this mess up on your own, wanker” Louis fixes his gun back and

“You’re an amazing friend” Liam smiles and winces when Louis flicks his cut by his side

“You are a shit one” Louis says preparing his kit.

The stitching doesn’t hurt, Liam still remembers the pain like none other, he doesn’t flinch, but he whines and curses when Louis takes way too much time to patch him up

“Cut that shit out” Louis grumbles going to the sink and washing his hands, Liam laughs and licks the blood of his lips with a proud grin.

 

There’s something about maths, about physics and a bit of chemistry, it’s about finding the balance, it’s about knowing how to go unnoticed and live the rewinding and fast-forwarding as a whole, he can’t miss anything.

When he wakes up Catherine is there, it’s only five in the morning and Liam can make up the shape of her body under his gaze. She smells like something good, something different. She says her name is Catherine, but looking in her purse and finding out her name is Esther makes him feel somewhat unsurprised; she sounded English, the accent practiced, it would shy off when he’d ram into her… French, he wondered. Her _Oh mon Dieu!_ was muttered in the sheets- French, he decides. Esther smells like something sweet too, something burnt and mixed.

Liam kisses her neck and holds on the taste on his tongue- bitter and salty; she sighs softly, her body turning to him and her head rests on his side. Her hands feel cold and Liam covers her with a blanket. He watches her for a moment, feeling an urge to wake her up, point his gun on her temple and ask her who sent her, but he doesn’t do that; instead, he traces the line of her neck to her collarbone with his pointer and thinks about how nice her hair looks, he loves the colour.

“So beautiful…” Liam murmurs and holds her hand under the blanket, he presses his own against her chest and listens to the thrumming of her heart, unperturbed as it could ever be.

The heat of her body feels wonderful.

 

Liam can do one thing, in this body or entity: he can return back to life. Louis told him it’s all about knowing, but then… what does knowing have to do with his inability to change events. If he could change events he could decide to drop off a thirty story building and rewind time because knowing he can send time back will guarantee him a way out of certain death. Liam studied speed and time and space when he returned as a scientist, he knows about different dimensions, he knows how to deal with those, but how much of a manipulation can be done with time, he doesn’t know that yet, would he be able to interconnect present and past together and relate them to each other if he had that ability?

There’s another thing he can do: he doesn’t necessarily see the future, but he can feel it like it’s his own, just bits of it before the actual event happens. Louis tells Liam he’s an angel, or a devil, or some other shit, but Liam’s sure he’s alive. Liam’s sure he’s died a couple of times, he believes he can die again at any moment and return back again.

That’s why Louis can’t understand why Liam can work just fine as a secret agent for the moment, and why Liam feels just fine when he comes back to him with a bullet in his leg. Liam always dies in the same way, not by old age, but the same way he died the first time… It doesn’t hurt as much now.

“At this rate, you’ll die before I do”

 _Nah_ , he’d like to tell him, _I won't die_.

For now he’s just a common shooter who happens to be falling in love with his neighbour.

 

There sure are a lot of things that Liam forgot how to feel: as pain is one, love is another. It’s like learning again how to show and tell and act on the thought of love, he does what he can when he has the chance to.

Liam aids the elderly down the street, he helps them with groceries. He watches as lovers-burrowed in scarves and thick coats-share timid kisses and hold hands under the cloudy sky in a common windy day, he smiles at the way moms hold their kids' hands and how bright the eyes of children are. Love feels so new every time he returns back to life. There’s no definition he can give to it because there’s so much that is there, so much to see and observe, there are so many different types of it Liam loses himself in the thought it gives.

“Is this good?” Liam looks up to Harry’s balcony, his tea is cold and he’s pushing some broccoli around the plate, he fucking hates vegetables.

He ate the fish though, and he liked it, wasn’t so bad; when he was a fisherman, another life ago, the fish he cooked tasted better, he doesn’t know if it’s because it was in lagoon waters. He didn’t fish much, just what he needed to eat for the day, he lived alone, quite what he expected anyway. He always lived alone as a farmer, a fisherman, a fireman and a factory worker… He wishes that could change.

“Date?”

“No, so?” Harry nods expectantly, those pants he’s wearing are so tight Liam thinks about his balls for a moment, can legs breathe like that?

“I don’t like any of the shirts you wear” Harry frowns deeply and Liam coughs a little, it’s rather cold outside and having a shirt like the one Harry has on would cause him to have a bit of a sore throat. There are people inside his apartment, a blonde one Liam sees, and another one, he’s sitting down- cigarette on his lips, doesn’t really look like he wants to be there.

“I reckon the grey one is better” Liam recovers, pointing to the shirt Harry’s not actually wearing “You dress funny,” he adds receiving a firm middle finger from Harry that shakes his head. His hair is wet and Liam would like to tell him it’s not good to have it like that in a night out like this, but he doesn’t- it’s not his life anyway.

"Niall said the dotted one is better"

"Who you feel close to?"

"Niall"

"What shirt will prevent you from having a cold?" Harry grins, not in embarrassment, Liam knows Harry doesn't care for embarrassment...

"Have a good night out” Liam says, he wishes he could stop him, but he doesn't

"How old are you, James?” The question comes quickly, Liam doesn’t think of lying, he doesn’t ever want to

"Twenty-three,” he lies anyway, he doesn’t even remember for how long he’s been alive, he doesn't even remember when his birthday is.

"You could come drink with us"

"Is there an age limit for coming to drink with you?"

Harry chuckles, holds the banister and he smiles looking down. Liam doesn't see him going down so he doesn't worry.

"Would you come and save me if I were to fall?"

"I would, you wouldn't do that anyway"

"I reckon you're testing me, James" Liam shakes his head, eyes the time on his watch and stands up

"Just know I'd try and save you"

Harry stands straight, it's probably the first time he does of all the times Liam saw him, he looks taller and daring. Liam thinks the dotted shirt sucks, but he doesn’t know if it’s because another person chose it for Harry.

“Well said, Bond,” he waves a little timidly, the palm of his hand is wide and his pinkie stretches away from his other four fingers when he waves

“Fuck off” Liam laughs and Harry turns back inside.

Harry’s broad, his back is free from any tattoo and Liam from where he is can see how tight the jeans he’s wearing are. He doesn’t dwell on the thought of pressing his fingers just right there, on the pallid skin of his hips, and watch their imprint bloom in a pinkish hue.

 

The semi-automatic sniper rifle he’s holding is pretty light in comparison to the one Louis gave him a couple of weeks before. The moon is bright in the sky from where he’s sitting, there’s not a lot going on at the moment, but Louis is keeping up the coordinates of his target. Liam attaches the silencer to his rifle slowly, paying attention to all the clicks and turns of it, it’s a good silencer.

For a moment Liam thinks what could make Harry good and quiet.

The thing about him returning back to life at the same age and form worries him, if his situation were to be some sort of reincarnation, he'd be a dog or a bear or even a butterfly, but Liam returns in human form every time, with the same aspects he had before dying the first time, he doesn't remember well, he probably had some kind of deal with the devil.

Which angel would carry a rifle around and handle it like it's a toy anyway?

He's always twenty-three when he returns back to life, always surprised by rainbow cakes and the immensity of someone's heart- he wishes he could eat a cake.

"Steady?" his transmitter blinks

"Just right out of Mot and Services Centre, one shot, clear and in his head" Louis says slowly "Let him take one step, just one step right out"

Liam sets his rifle, waits at the rhythm of his heartbeat and closes his eyes, he doesn't have a stand for his rifle, but the cemented block it's enough, he sets the gun, the click of the safety and trigger levers are imperceptible

"Good one," he compliments Louis with a chuckle

"Focus, boy"

"Coordinates" Liam asks quickly checking the telescope and fixing the mount

"The same"

He calibres his rear sight, the man by the services looks rather worried in his stance, his hands fidgeting with the collar of his jacket, Liam hopes he's not the one he has to shoot too, Liam hopes he'll run away as soon as he kills his mate. He has a ring too.

Good God, he hates this job.

He concentrates, holds his rifle in place, cheek on the pad and pulls the trigger, the first shot hits the man in grey right in the head, missing by some centimetres off his eyes. Louis sighs; Liam is at a considerable distance and he doesn’t think it’s all set and done when another shot fires up in the air, the man with the ring is on the floor, another one is set to take his gun out when Liam fires another shot in his direction, he doesn’t necessarily like how they die, but nothing can be done about that.

“One to go” Louis returns on his earpiece, Liam quickly switches to his semi already equipped with another silencer and fires the last shot, the man entering the car lays dead by it with a bag in hand.

Liam breathes in, working with the Intelligence is not that exciting. He’s been trained for two years, and he thinks he probably had some preconceived abilities anyway. There’s nothing good that Liam likes about killing somebody he doesn’t know, the only thing he can bear is the way everything ends quickly, at least.

“Good job”

“I’m staying here for a while”

“Keep an eye behind you, don’t come with another bullet in your leg”

Liam laughs, there’s nothing amazing about coming back to life.

 

Liam always thought his love life wasn’t what he wanted or what he wished for himself, so even if he tries and shy away from thoughts that are filled with Harry’s body and his smile, there’s always something that makes him wish he’d try and love as much as he could before returning in another life.

“You always wear a suit” Harry looks about ready to sleep as Liam is, though, Liam can’t understand how he got here, in front of his apartment door with his shirt unbuttoned and a bottle of cheap champagne in his hands

“I have to... Did you steal that?” Liam hums, he doesn’t know if he should let Harry in, he never let anybody in, not even Louis

"I was bored, nobody cares when you're rich and you steal" Harry says, he's not drunk when Liam kneels over his frame and checks his eyes, his skin feels cold and soft and he smells like alcohol...

“Are you a bodyguard?” Harry asks closing his eyes and leaning into Liam's hand

“…Yeah”

“You’re not very good at lying, are you?”

“Depends on what I don’t have to lie about” Liam says, Harry looks up with a smile on his lips, they look really pink and so thin

“I have some really cheap champagne and since you didn’t want to come and drink with me and my friends, I brought something with me”

“I see,” Liam turns the door knob and opens the door to his apartment, it’s nothing much, it’s nothing really, but Harry saying 'friends' sounds a bit off, a bit distant. He helps Harry up wondering for how long he had been sitting there

“For how long…”

“Maybe three hours”

“Har-”

“Lying, just an hour”

“You shouldn’t have, it’s dangerous outside”

“Just wanted to see you up close” Harry admits with a grin, he holds the champagne for Liam to take and steps in, he takes his suede boots off and starts walking down the slim hallway to the living space, it feels as if Harry came in before, he almost looks too at ease with the place.

“You must be tired” Harry says stepping outside the balcony and takes a seat there, Liam leaves him be and goes to his room to change, nothing about Harry being in the same place he is in scares him, what shakes his mind is that he’d probably want to have this for the rest of his life.

Liam changes rather slowly and disposes of his gun by the bottom side of his armchair by the nightstand, there’s nothing there, there was nothing, no picture, no souvenir, nothing. Liam wishes he could remember what it felt like to have things of that sort.

“Bottle or cups?” Liam asks looking at the balcony, Harry just shakes the bottle of champagne and Liam leaves the glasses be, he takes his time possible to get by the balcony and sit there with Harry, their back on the cold concrete wall. They don’t say much, but Liam comforts himself in the solidity Harry gives him, sometimes he forgets he’s alive… Sometimes he forgets he can still feel.

“You really are a bodyguard” Harry says popping the bottle open

“If you think so”

“Are you waiting to die?” Harry asks and Liam snorts when he gulps a swing of the champagne, the taste is as bad as he remembers

“Not really… I- feel like it’d be too much for people to move if I weren’t to come back one day”

Liam doesn’t really know why he says that, he doesn’t know why it actually hurts to say it. All these times, the coming back to life again and again with only one thing to be sure of, he thought that probably nobody would have ever cared and what if somebody were to actually care? What if…

“I thought about you” Harry says. He says it rather slowly, like he’s been thinking about how to say it. Liam feels elated for the fraction of the second in which the idea of dying doesn’t come into his mind. Harry looks ahead before leaning on his thighs, up close to his chest and dropping his head on his knees to look at Liam. His eyes look wonderful under the starlight, Liam thinks, he’d like to touch him.

“What did you think?” Harry smiles closing his eyes and Liam feels nervous for a moment, he doesn’t remember all that well, but it was the same feeling he had when he asked his first girlfriend on a date, and it’s so many years ago… so many lives ago.

“It must be lonely… Living like you do,” he murmurs looking at him.

Liam would like to tell him the truth, he would like to tell him that there’s a thrum in his heart that skips every time he thinks about lonely he actually is, and really as alone as one can be there’s a lot to say to the actual feeling alone. Liam finds solace in being alone, not in being lonely.

“You get used to”

He misses his dad. The first time he returned, he tried to search for him and travelled upwards from Sicily to Wolverhampton in a heartbeat. Now, he doesn’t even remember how his dad looked like, he doesn’t remember anything.

And he knows he shouldn’t have taken his life, his only one life. He shouldn’t have stepped off that balcony. 

“I can’t” Harry smiles sadly, he brushes his hair back and huffs, his nose is quite red and his skin looks so pale, God, Liam would like to kiss him.

“You don’t need to be alone if you don’t want to be, loneliness is-” he wants to say deadly, he really wants to say it. Liam believes the buzz of the champagne is getting to him when Harry yawns a little and he thinks Harry looks adorable in those expensive clothes. Liam would like to cover him with a blanket, but he stands and stretches his hand towards Harry and waits for him to take it.

The warmth of his hand feels new to Liam, it feels like love and hope and a bit of good faith too, he likes the way Harry’s hand closes around his own.

“Can I sleep with you?” Liam looks at Harry for a moment, there’s nothing to search for really, but

“My bed is shit”

“James, I don’t care about the bed”

His bed is not shit, it’s pretty big and it’s pretty nice. The pillows are soft and their covers are purple and blue, Harry pokes its sides and murmurs something about Liam being a shit liar to which Liam shrugs. He can’t say why he said it’s shit anyway, he’s actually sorry he thought that about his bed.

“Nobody lives with you?"

“Me, myself and I” Harry says, his smile is quite small. He unbuttons his shirt and leaves it by the armchair near the wardrobe. He takes his pants off too and Liam can see the tattoo, he can see what it is and he’d like to ask what it means. Things is, he’d have to hold onto another memory and forget about another one.

"We shouldn't speak, right? Your life and mine, they just don't go along... They don't meet" Harry is standing straight in front of the door to the bathroom, he scratches the back of his arm and smiles again. Liam doesn't feel anything, he should, but he really doesn't care. They live in front of each other with just a slim street separating them from balcony to balcony and there's nothing they should force, but isn't that what humans do anyway? Intersecting and entering into other people's lives? The words have no ill-intent, Liam can feel that, but Harry looks almost hurt when he says it, he's not being a jerk nor a resolutely sad being, he just looks tired and Liam wants to sleep burrowed in the heat Harry's body gives.

"You came by, I let you in, that goes against what you said" Harry cocks his head to the side when Liam takes his shirt off and sniffs a little, he almost looks like he wants to cry, but that'd be too careless of him to do.

Harry rubs his face quickly and walks to Liam’s restroom like it’s his own to wash his mouth and face. There’s something about him that feels like a lie and Liam knows what it is now.

“Are you alright?” Liam asks, just because, or he doesn’t really know why.

Harry nods slowly, looking at the bed and taking the comforters off it “I’m a stranger, you know that?”

“You aren’t, there’s- something about you that doesn’t-” he says, he still looks down like he’s making up how long it could take him to fall on the bed, Liam knows that look, it’s the same he had before-

“Let’s sleep” he says quickly, he shakes the thought of his head.

Harry feels soft under his fingertips, there’s something about the way he inches nearer and nearer until he’s just there, against Liam’s skin. Liam just holds him close because that’s all he can do, he wishes he had somebody to hold before deciding that he had had enough. His skin prickles a little and he feels agitated for a while, it's so quiet he notices.

“Liam” Liam says, his heart is beating almost out of his chest when Harry sighs, he never felt anything before saying it to the people he met when he was coming back lives before; he doesn’t remember his surname now. He forgets bits of his first life as he returns, every time. He doesn’t remember his mom’s and dad’s name, he doesn’t remember where he lived nor where he went to school; he can only remember his name. Now, Liam feels like he could have said it a long time ago.

“My name is Liam” he repeats close to Harry’s head, his hair is soft and Liam finds himself kissing the top of it, his arms circle around Harry’s back tentatively and Harry comforts himself easily in Liam’s hold. Liam feels too hot for a moment and it feels good, it feels like he's alive and more than that.

“You have such a wonderful name, Liam. Nice to meet you,” Harry grins, Liam can feel the press of his lips on his chest and he chuckles a little wondering how nice it feels to have somebody to hold during the night.

“I like your name… Harry” Harry hums close to his neck and moves up to press his lips there, Liam shivers with the feel it gives him. It's been so long...

Harry’s hands take trips on his back, they move and his fingers dance along the line of his sides, Liam sleeps like that. He thinks, it’s the first time he fell asleep this easily.

 

Liam for the first time-since he returned back to life from his other lives- is not alone in the morning. The weight that settles on his chest is comforting and warm in windy mornings like this. The clouds are heavy in the sky, but so white Liam can fully breathe in the peace he feels, he can fall into bliss with Harry on top of him and it seems so normal, but it’s so complicated deep down.

“You look peaceful when you sleep” Harry says before raising his head and laying on Liam’s chest with a huff, voice thick with sleep

“It’d be the first time, morning”

“Morning… Can I see your gun?”

Something thumps really hard in Liam’s chest, it feels heavy and strange, but he shakes his head “No” and he’s not saying no for saying sake, he knows why he’s saying no. The look in Harry’s eyes and how he touches makes him shake and “No, Harry, it’s better if you don’t”

“Okay” his voice is croaky and tired and Liam ruffles his hair quickly wondering for how long’s he’s been growing it, it feels soft when he presses a lock between his fingertips

“You have school, yeah?”

“You should be in school too, if you are twenty four”

“I’m not good with books”

“Liar, you look like you like putting yourself down. I bet you'd be brilliant, is it modesty or else?”

“Modesty, I’m sure” Liam says watching as Harry grins. Harry doesn’t understand anyway, Liam doesn't think he could, but he moves away and sits by the edge of the bed, there’s a bit of colour returning to his cheeks and there’s a bit of a peaceful aura around him that makes Liam smile as well. He knew Harry looked like good faith and kindness and a bit of cheekiness too in the way he walks to the bathroom.

“What you don’t have, I assume” Liam points out subtly

“I feel victimized, Liam”

 

Harry doesn’t come and visit that often, most of the times Liam is working and other times Liam is content with talking with him over the balcony. He doesn’t seem to have any more visits apart from when his friends pass by which is rather seldom. Harry seems calmer, almost content. The bags under his eyes are not that prominent when he comes by and eats Thai and sometimes the froyo off a cup, he spends the whole time not even eating the froyo, but chewing on the plastic spoon.

There’s nothing Liam can actually say about Harry and really, the only thing that matters to him is Harry being alright.

It feels good to have someone, just sitting with someone and watching outside the balcony, eating as healthy as Liam and Harry go by. It’s a lot witness, the look in Harry’s eyes when they eat, the creases on his shirts when he dresses up in the morning and the way he reaches for Liam’s body under the light blankets, it’s a lot to feel.

Then, Liam thinks he’s never been this happy, happy to love somebody as quietly and boldly as he can and happy to have come to life again. People say that having a long life is good, but returning to life to fall in love over and over again is one of those things Liam wouldn’t give for granted; the feeling that roars in your chest and the way your heart thumps and your whole body feels stays on another level, it stays on the brink of the unimaginable, it’s so powerful and immense, and Liam can’t define the immense because the word in itself seems too immense to give an exact space to.

“You do have something that keeps you here,” Harry said one night, he brushed Liam’s cheek with a smile and looked up to the ceiling

“What is that?” Liam asked, the ceiling wasn’t much to look at for Harry but Liam could see what other people couldn’t, seeing time it’s different from feeling it.

“Who you might say” Harry grinned and turned to nuzzle and breathe on Liam’s chest,

“You really do have an ego to fill”

“There isn’t much to fill anyway” Harry said rather sadly and Liam just listened to him breathing until he fell asleep too.

 

Liam guesses that since he’s been alive, he’s never felt this at peace with how things go, with how things seem to appear and how little he cares about useless particulars; how he can fall in love again without feeling any worry.

Liam doesn’t push Harry, that’s not what he can do, he can’t ever get to push because he knows he’s not staying, there’s no permanence to his body and to his feelings, so he waits till Harry pulls him in and sits near him on the balcony when he can come by.

Liam waits and leaves Harry to do everything he pleases because there’s no way he could stop himself from pulling him in, he wouldn’t be able.

There’s a question in Harry’s eyes when he stops in the middle of the living room in a cold night, Liam looks at him and wishes he could stop trying to resist whatever it’s pushing him forward to Harry’s body and taste his mouth, feel his lips between his teeth. It’s a long time Liam doesn’t kiss somebody and he doesn’t remember how it’s supposed to go on about.

But Liam feels new when Harry kisses him, just a press of lips light and quick, his eyes are dark, he’s breathing like he’s never had a run before. The second kiss makes Liam push Harry till he has him against the wall and it’s little fumbled, he doesn’t really know what to do and he chuckles a little against his lips

“Never been kissed before?”

“Remind me how to”

Liam smiles against Harry’s lips and it’s not that he doesn’t remember how to, he doesn’t remember how a kiss feels, because it’s not just the fleeting passion and intimacy of a night, but it’s love and hope and peace that Liam finds when Harry’s lips press against his and his mouth opens; the glide of Harry’s tongue is tender and languid against his, hot and sweet in his mouth. Liam feels somewhat awakened, his hands stop onto Harry’s hips and his fingers dig into the skin there, it’s all white noise, Harry’s breath on the shell of his ear when Liam kisses his neck and the way he moves against Liam’s body. Harry’s hands cup his face, soft and kind and if Liam leans into his touch, it’s all in the way it registers in his brain and he really wants to feel everything and rewind it in his mind like it just happened every time he thinks about it.

Maybe they stand there for a couple of minutes, maybe an hour or maybe what feels like an eternity. Liam only remembers the way Harry kisses when he’s laying down on the bed with him at night and the stars shine bright like the way Harry’s eyes glint in the morning.

 

 

Usually it doesn’t take much for Liam to believe things like the solitude of one’s mind and the perpetual sadness of any individual. Liam understands sadness and loneliness because he’d been there himself, he’d been on the brink of death way too many times for his parents to consider his death like an accident and really, there was nothing nobody could have done about stopping him that day. He didn’t leave any note, he considered it obsolete on one side and way too cheeky on the other.

He didn't plan it, maybe the day, hour, what everybody else thinks about, probably making sure to write down a little stupid note with cliché words and the obvious, but haunting apology. Apologies for not being good enough, apologies for amounting to nothing, not being able to be of an impact in peoples' lives, not being himself.

"How was work?” Harry says when Liam comes in the door, Liam doesn’t have a TV, but Harry seems content with some books that are on the shelves by the balcony

“Sort of a GTA setting, but with real people” Liam takes off his coat and rubs his fingers trying to get free from the images of blood stains on his long burnt shirt. Harry looks at him for a moment, leaves the book he’s been holding in his hands and smiles, not that much but the hint of it it’s there.

“It always rains when you’re out to kill” he says, he really doesn’t have anything on apart from some briefs and Liam sighs trying to come up with a good answer, but Harry kind of beats him to it by pressing himself against Liam’s body and pushing him to the wall by the hallway.

“'Y smell like blood”

“I planned on having a shower” Liam murmurs, Harry feels hot under the palm of his hand, but Liam doesn’t dwell on that for a long time

“You’ve seen a lot of people go, right?”

“I-” he starts, but Harry pushes his hands up to Liam’s chest and fists the shirt he’s wearing almost in wonder “I wish I could tell you how many” Liam says with a frown

“Did you feel anything about them leaving?”

“I can’t sleep at night” Liam says, he wants to add to that, but Harry just sighs and lets his shirt go slinging his fingers through Liam's own and Liam remembers something fleeting about holding his sister’s hand this way, a long time ago.

When Liam comes back from the shower, already dressed in joggers and a shirt, his gun is tucked in the shoulder holster rig. The living room is dark, breeze blows from the outside and Liam can hear the feeble creak of the windows by his balcony. Liam thinks Harry’s gone, but his heart thumps quickly when a long creaking sound comes from outside.

Harry’s cologne is still strong and Liam can hear his breathing, erratic and Liam knows it, he saw it and he knew it and when he turns just right after putting his jacket on that his gun is not there; his pulse ramps up, he thinks he can do this, but then the floorboard of the balcony creaks again. Once. Twice.

“Harry” Liam says, it’s low, it sounds scared in his ears too, and he sees himself there, it’s like returning back in time, it’s like reliving the same moments, he remembers as clear as day.

He remembers taking a step forward, maybe two more and he really couldn’t count at the moment, he remembers the kettle whistling in the back. He remembers huffing back at the kitchen, the vapor disappearing in the air from the stove- sulking didn’t help, though. The veranda door was still wide open, setting on the back of his apartment looking outside at the greenery spent, always spent, rain pouring down as if God's crying incessantly on the world, or on him, there was no difference. He should have made tea, maybe that would had calm him down, as if there was something that ceremonious about making tea every time he decided he wanted to hop off the balcony from the fifth floor of his apartment. As if there was something he wanted to make sure he did before dying, jumping off a fucking balcony.

“I can’t sleep at night too, when you’re not with me” stirs Liam up, makes him motion to the balcony to see Harry just there, exactly where he was so many lives ago and the sight is so terrifying, it always is. Liam didn’t know it’d be this frightening to see Harry there, his hunched frame leaning on the railing like it’s his only sustenance.

“No, no, listen to me, Harry dammit, listen to me”

“You said that I don’t need to be alone”

“Taking your life won’t solve that!” Liam wishes he had someone to talk to that day, he wishes it didn’t rain, he wishes so many things would have happened, for a moment he wishes he never left that balcony door open.

“How do you know?”

“I-” he tries, but the words don’t come out, he doesn’t ever know what to say and it’s frustrating because he knows what he could say, what he went through, but-

“See?”

“Harry- Harry please, hey, you don’t need to do this, it’s stupid, you’re not stupid Harry”

“You don’t even know what’s after death, do you?”

“Harry, I swear don’t-”

Harry takes the step, and Liam’s chest plummets. It feels like he’s doing it again, it feels like he’s giving up again and it never feels right, there’s no sense of liberation, no moment to think about what the eternal feels like because it’s as if all consciousness ebbs away in the matter of seconds, before coming to an end. Liam closes his eyes and he can feel it, he can feel the agitation and the strenuous activity his brain went through when he walked off the railing of that God’s forsaken balcony and he can’t fucking look but as fear hits his chest and Harry holds on the banister tightly.

“Wake the fuck up, Harry! Don’t fucking do this!”

The holster on his hip heaves. He can feel the weight on his body like it’s the only thing that’s there. Liam breaths in, eyes steady on Harry as his fingers travel their way up to the holster and unbuckle the gun from the leather holder.

"If you take another fucking step, Harry, I swear I'll shoot you myself"

"You wouldn't do that"

The thing is Liam actually does that every day and he never did it to save somebody, so he can, he can do that; he pulls the hammer, Harry hears the click, he widens his stance and he looks daring again, the kind of daring that seems like stupidity in all forms.

Liam breathes, he hands feel sweaty and slippery while he holds the gun and slips in the silencer by the other side of his holster, it’s appalling how much his hands are shaking.

Louis would tell him to shoot, one shot clear to the side, no internal damage, just a scratch that would look like a scar instead. Louis would tell him to aim exactly where Liam would know the subject wouldn't be dead, but would suffer long enough from bleeding profusely, Louis would tell him that a gun can save, a gun can deem death and instill fear, he just has to choose which of the three it is.

"Harry, please"

Liam tells himself so, so many times his heart threatens to explode and for a moment he can see it, he can see Harry returning back, he can rewind it, feel it on his skin, the agitation turning into desperation into doubt into consciousness into defeat into doubt and tranquility.

“Fuck- Harry” Liam wants to try and save him, he knows he can’t, but he promised him, he promised.

“How do you know?”

It hurts. Harry asks like it hurts to even think about. Liam always knew he could have stopped, he knows why he could have stopped himself from falling and he didn’t think about it, he didn’t think about what other people could have lost, he didn’t think he would have lost himself like that.

“I’ve been there before- I, I know how it is, how it was and you feel like you’re losing your shit everyday and nobody understand so you try and refuge yourself into other bodies, into a fleeting love that doesn’t stay even for one night. Harry- I know, just- don’t do this” he still holds the gun up, his finger is on the trigger and Harry looks so scared, and it's raining and he'll get a fever, God, please.

Harry smiles, he shakes his head and his body twitches as he starts pushing himself backward, weight lifting his feet. Liam screams, he can feel it bubbling from his core to his mouth, all the pain and anger and the wishing he could change things, he could have done something more.

So he shoots; he shoots two times, his heart beating like never before and threatening to burst out of his body. Just then he thinks that he probably should have drunk that tea, he should have listened to the kettle whistling and he should have not given thought to all the negative things that pushed him off that rainy day.

“You shot me” Harry says, his voice is feeble and left in bewilderment as he looks down and he coughs a little, he looks pallid and tired hunched on the railing, the curtains are still blowing outside light and quick in the wind.

Liam shakes his head and runs to his side, Harry’s horrid dotted shirt is stained in blood and Liam breathes in and lets words pour out of his mouth

“I didn’t kill you, I didn’t kill you…” Liam says and Harry smiles like the idiot he is, Liam opens up his shirt and looks down at the skin of his waist, “God, don’t make me do it again… You can sleep okay? I’ll be with you, I swear I’ll be with you, I’ll always be with you”

“Well said, Bond” Harry whispers still not present, his hands are cold when he presses them to Liam’s chest and Liam holds them there with his own before hoisting him up.

And maybe this is it, this how it feels to believe that everything will eventually turn out just fine, because after thinking for so long that your thoughts and your life are meaningless and suffering is always as bad as it’s said to be there’s a way out and it doesn’t have to be giving up. Liam, while holding Harry in his arms and helping him to the bathtub, wishes he could have seen somebody before deciding, that maybe he could have checked in with the doctor and hope for something better. But, he didn’t and the fact is that sadness comes and goes, but when it does come back again there is a renewed knowledge to beat it and struggle through it and even if Liam didn’t defeat it, maybe this is his ‘punishment’ now, he can try and help others beat theirs.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


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